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M. E. FITCH 

[Mrs. WillianJ'Grant Fitch] 



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ARRANGED AND PRINTED BY THE 

NEWS PRINTING COMPANY 

PASADENA. CAU. 



COPYRIGHT DECEMBER 11. 1911 
BY M. E. FITCH 



CI.A305483 

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T WAS my good fortune on reaching 
Singapore, in the year 1902, for a 
journey through India, where the great 
Durbar was to be held, to find that 
our ship from Singapore to Rangoon, 
was the Tara, Captain Herrington. 

Now the Tara was the ship, built by the British 
India Company for the royal, titled, and distinguished, 
visitors, who were to take part in the ceremonies, that 
proclaimed King Edward VII., Emperor of India. 

The ship was a floating palace, and the officers 
were of the royal navy. 

The ship was ordered to Rangoon, via Singapore 
to await the royal command, and, lucky traveller that I 
am, I was one of a small party to enjoy a week on this 
beautiful ship. 

After my journey through India, and a three days' 
sail from Calcutta to Rangoon, imagine my delight to 
find that I would be transhipped to the Tara. 

I had come from a plague country, and was not 
permitted to land in Burma, but I had thoroughly seen 
Rangoon, had visited Mandalay, had sailed on the 
Irrawaddy, "where the flying fishes play," so I was 
quite ready to continue my journey. 



On my arrival at the ship, I was met by Captain 
Herrington, and welcomed as an old friend. 

Everything was in regal style, no clumsy gang- 
plank, but a royal stairway was lowered. 

Next morning after Captain Herrington had been 
ashore, he came to me saying, "I have news for you, 
which may be agreeable, and may not; I am ordered 
to sail at once, not to stop at Penang, so the passen- 
gers booked for that port will be obliged to take an- 
other ship." 

"The Vice-regal party, are not ready to leave 
India, as they had planned, and there will be time for 
me to make a hasty voyage, and return for their com- 
mands; so with a full cargo, and some second class 
passengers, I am ordered to Singapore, and you and 
your companion will be my only first class passen- 
gers." 

Could one's wildest dreams, picture such good for- 
tune, for the whole ship was mine, with all its royal 
state. So during those peaceful days, as we quietly 
sailed upon the calm waters, these sketches were scrib- 
bled for my good friends. 




THE HOOGHLY 



AS OUR good ship entered the Hooghly (one of 
the many mouths of the Ganges) and slowly 
wended her way, twisting and turning, for miles up 
the treacherous stream to Calcutta, plans for my jour- 
ney through India naturally had first place in my 
thought. 

A good servant and guide must be secured. While 
I had my companion maid, who had served me well, 
still a native servant was indispensable. 

I had always heard so much of the faithful Indian 



servant, and last year at Ceylon in the hotel, as I saw 
them standing by their master's door, all day, and 
at night, removing their voluminous turban, rolling 
it up for a pillow, spreading a strip of cotton for their 
bed and lying down for the night to watch and guard 
their Sahib or Mem-Sahib, I fairly longed for the 
time when I, too, should have such a faithful guardian. 

And now in the last days of 1 902, as we were 
nearing Calcutta, how I reveled in the thought of the 
ideal servant, with his respectful salaam, and his ever 
watchful care. I pictured him with pure white turban 
of the largest size, and long white coat; the trousers 
I left to fate; only they must be short, leaving his 
feet and legs bare, to show his respect for me, as 
there is no greater disrespect in Oriental countries, 
than to cover the feet, or uncover the head; so the 
turban I must have, on my servant. 

As the ship touched the Calcutta dock, she 
seemed to swarm with Indians, of all sorts and condi- 
tions, and the most unclean one of all, took me in 
charge. 

How well I remember the huge green woolen 
"comforter" he wore around his neck, and the soiled 
cap! No turban on him! 

We had a report of "no rooms to be had in Cal- 
cutta," so the captain advised leaving our luggage, 
and if we had difficulty in securing rooms, returning 



to the ship for the night; so leaving my maid in charge 
of the luggage, I started with friends for the Grand 
hotel. 

The soiled cap, and the green comforter, would 
not be dismissed, he secured a Garry, mounted the 
box beside the driver and when my friends stopped 
for letters, he put in my lap a big package of chits, or 
recommendations in which he was vouched for, as a 
perfect servant, I wonder, I did not fall a victim to his 
evil eye, and his persistency. 

Finding plenty of rooms at the hotel, I sent my 
new servant as he had constituted himself, for the lug- 
gage, and when he arrived with it, he hustled the 
coolies, and ordered the servants about in a way to 
command my admiration, as he thought — ending with 
the pertinent question, "Am I engaged." 

To his seeming surprise I gave him the usual fee, 
and dismissed him — I could not lower my ideal so 
soon, and I must have a turban. 

The hotel was excellent, but servants ! If I opened 
my door, two or three men would spring from the 
floor, and try to press their package of chits into my 
hand! If I had only known the word "jow," which 
means "get out," how well I could have used it. 

In the dining room, a very tall, thin man in snug 
fitting brown clothes, with a beautiful white turban, 
was most assiduous in his attentions. He was so 



quick and noiseless in his movements, that I called him 
"the monkey." He followed me to my room and 
produced the now familiar package, I read them 
and for two days endured him, then I paid and dis- 
missed him. 

Another boy came, with superior recommenda- 
tions. As these chits are passed from one to the other, 
I had him identified; he was a Hindu; he could not 
eat in the hotel; I found his absences rather pro- 
longed, but according to his letters, he was so honest, 
and he was so clean, and with his white turban looked 
so well, on the front seat of the carriage, and never 
ran back for a commission, when I made a purchase, 
that I engaged him. 

Then, oh then the creature changed; he must 
have warm clothes, for the colder climate we were go- 
ing to; I found this was the custom. He must have 
a dozen towels, for your Hindu spends most of his 
time in the water; I compromised with half a dozen. 
He would not wear ready made clothes, so the tailor 
came and I ordered a suit for him. 

We were to leave some of our sight-seeing at 
Calcutta until our return, so our tickets were bought, 
our car was secured, and we were to leave for Benares 
at seven-thirty in the evening. 

All through India we had a very large car to our- 
selves; they are long, like our railway carriages with 



two beds, a dressing room with water, and a small 
room for the native servant, opening into the car, which 
also, had an outside entrance. 

There was a folding table to cook upon, cold 
water was free, but boiling water which was gotten in 
our tea kettle, cost a penny. 

The best trains start at night, we carried our 
own bedding and a well filled hamper, and always 
had a good breakfast cooked by my maid, before 
leaving the car, as a dining car is unheard of in India. 

About four o'clock in the afternoon on the day of 
our departure, my boy appeared with a very soiled 
turban, an independent air, and his bed, which all 
servants must take with them. 

I said, "You must put on a clean turban before 
you start with me." (You see the turban was my 
ideal, I must live up to it.) 

He answered, "I haven't any other, you must buy 
me one." 

Of course I refused. 

He then said, "I cannot go with you, unless you 
give me ten rupees for my family, during my absence." 

Imagine my feelmgs with my trunks all packed, 
and my railway carriage secured. 

In my tribulation, I flew down to the manager, 
who told me it was customary to pay a small sum in 
advance, but that I must keep his papers as security. 



The boy was sent for, and he refused to give me his 
papers. 

The manager with the assurance that he would 
get me a new boy at once, told him to get out. 

Their plan is, to find a new-comer (tenderfoot as 
it were), get a suit of clothes, which they can pawn, a 
railway ticket, an advance of ten rupees, put their 
victim into the railway carriage, and then disappear. 

I heard of several who suffered in this way. 

My appeal to the manager saved me, for I don't 
think my saintly Hindu intended to go with me from 
the first. 

Five o'clock came, no new servant and at seven, 
at the very latest, we must leave the hotel to catch our 
train. 

My heart was a little heavy for I don't like to have 
my plans disarranged. 

Just then, in came two bright-eyed boys; one said, 
"Here is the boy the manager sent." 

I glanced at his chits, put them in my pocket as 
security for they said everything good, about him. 

I engaged him at once, paid him ten rupees for his 
family, told him the tailor would be ready with his 
clothes, which luckily had not been delivered, and 
said, "he must be back in an hour ready to start." 

He was off like a shot, I drew a long breath and 
then came the thought, "Had he a turban on," for 



even at that exciting moment, my ideal servant arose 
before me, and whether I had secured him or not, I 
w^as unable to remember. 

The tailor came with the clothes. We were in the 
writing room, from which my room opened, also the 
dining room and the staircase. 

I think every employe of the establishment arrived 
on the scene; some for their fee, others out of curiosity 
to see if we should get off. I even suspected there 
were bets, about the return of my boy in time. 

The manager came and said he had sent this same 
boy, with ladies before, and he could assure me of his 
fidelity. 

Half past six, no boy! quarter of seven, not here! 

The monkey man had long been watching and 
waiting; he wanted to get a Garry and have my lug- 
gage put on; the tailor still waiting unpaid, was most 
excited, when up the stairs with a bound, came my 
bright-eyed, barefooted boy of about forty, with half 
a dozen coolies at his heels. 

Like magic, the luggage was on the Garry; the 
clothes were snatched, and tried on ; the tailor was paid. 

We ran down the stairs with the whole motley 
crew behind us, the tailor and the monkey man helping 
us into the Garry. All of Santa's relations had come 
to see him off. Every minute was precious, but they 
had brought a bottle of tea, a plate of food, and must 



shake hands with him, and say good-bye, and one, 
more persistent than the rest, put his head in the 
window, saying, "He is my cousin, take good care 
of him!" I heard an exasperated exclamation and we 
were off. 

We had just time to get settled before the train 
started, and when my boy came to get into the ser- 
vant's part, opening into my carriage, I saw to my 
dismay that he had on, not a white turban but a small 
blue cap. 

I was too exhausted to think much about my ideal 
that night, but the next morning I solemnly told him, 
he must wear a white turban. 

Well Santa was a good boy, he at once produced 
an immaculate turban; he twisted it in the most ar- 
tistic folds, and he never appeared in my presence 
without it. 

If he wore his cap, which I think was the pride 
of his heart, he put his turban on, over it. No mat- 
ter how cold, his feet and his legs were bare to the 
knee, his turban was always immaculate, and so, my 
ideal servant was realized. He was a good servant, 
and took me back to Calcutta, with all my belong- 
ings, which is more than many can say, in the troublous 
year of the Durbar at Delhi, of 1 902. 



AN ALL night ride by train from Calcutta brought 
us to this most interesting city about nine in the 
morning. We were driven to a pleasant hotel, one 
story in height, with a broad veranda running the 
whole front, surrounded by a beautiful rose garden, 
and I was told I could gather as many roses as I 
wished. 

This veranda was filled with merchants, displaying 
their wares, embroideries, cashmere shawls, wooden 
toys, rugs, etc. One merchant, who never told the same 
price for anythmg, confessed that he had an asking 
price, a talking price, and a selling price; so a purchase 
was a matter of hours. 

We soon started to see the sights. We were 
conducted through narrow, filthy streets on foot, leav- 
ing the carriage as we entered the town, to the Golden 
temple, and to the Monkey temple, both places of Hin- 
du worship and where a daily sacrifice of a goat is 
made. 

We saw the sacred cattle, small grey beasts, slick 
and clean, in one of the inner courts of the Golden 
temple and peered at some of their ugly Gods through 
small apertures, but I found the temples neither inviting 
nor interesting, so we turned to the bazaars, where the 
Benares brass is made. 



We went up narrow stairs so steep that we were 
obliged to hold fast to a heavy rope to keep from fall- 
ing backwards, but were well repaid by the beautiful 
things to be seen. 

In the evening we were invited by a hone5anoon 
couple, to see a Nautch dance. 

Again up steep narrow stairs we climbed in the 
dark, to a small room where four chairs were placed 
for the distinguished guests, our party, while all around 
the sides of the room, the natives squatted on their heels 
waiting for the show to begin; four musicians, with 
small drum like a childs, cjinbals, a queer instrument 
about five feet long shaped like a banjo, and one 
other which I cannot now recall; finally two very home- 
ly women, except for their bright eyes, appeared. 

Their dresses were heavy and voluminous with 
much cheap gold braid and veils; one was bare- 
footed with beringed toes, the other had brown stock- 
ings on. 

They slowly walked about, first one then the other, 
keeping step to the slow music, occasionally coming 
forward, and shaking each one of us, by the hand. 

The music grew a little less solemn, when they held 
their skirts and whirled a little, their bodies swaying 
to the music. After this stupendous effort they again 
shook us by the hand. Then followed a little panto- 
mine which my guide informed us was a flirtation; 



again we shook hands and the finale was a song in 
English : 

"When I was single, 

My money did jingle. 

And I wish I was single 
Again, again, again." 

This in voices more discordant than I can find 
words to express. 

These are the famous Nautch girls and the Nautch 
dance, of which we so often read. I saw them in 
Jeypore and the slow movement and solemn music 
were the same. 

In the dimly lighted room with the dusky figures 
lining the wall, with their piercing black eyes shining 
out, it was not a festive scene. 

My boy Santiago by name, though we always 
spoke of him as Santa, this being Christmas time, it 
brought pleasant visions of chimneys and babies hang- 
ing up their stockings just to mention Santa — ^well boy, 
insisted that we get up at six o'clock and go to the 
Ganges to see the bathers. 

He had what he considered an unanswerable argu- 
ment when I protested. "All the gentlemens are going 
at six o'clock." 

I compromised with seven-thirty, so in the chill of 
the morning we drove to the Ganges and regardless 



of the chill, the sacred river was well filled with bathers 
all along the shore; the number was quite sufficient 
for me, but Santa thought it was no show at all, 
and assured me that four o'clock was the best time. 

We took a queer boat with chairs on top of a 
cabin, and were rowed for some distance down the 
river. 

On the bank are the palaces of the rich men, 
who we were told, feed the poor by the hundred 
daily, temples where the different gods and goddesses 
are worshipped, and the palaces of the Maharaja. 

Between these buildings the river is approached by 
flights of stone steps, which are called Ghats; these are 
named as streets are with us. 

The most interesting was the burning Ghat; here 
were the funeral pyres, with the bodies in them, covered 
with wood, ready to be lighted. 

As we stopped opposite this Ghat, the priests, who 
had just completed a funeral pyre, but without light- 
ing it, ascended a platform at the left, overlooking the 
pyre, on which a number of men were standing. 

Then ensued loud words and many gesticulations. 

I enquired from my boy who was intently watching 
them, what it was all about. 

He explained that the body had been brought to 
the river in a twelve anna robe, about twenty-four 
cents, but when the relatives came to see the burning, 



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they were recognized as rich men, who should have 
sent the body in a rich robe, which would have be- 
longed to the priests, so they refused to light the fire, 
until the proper amount was paid them. 

At last, the matter was settled and we saw the 
torch applied. 

Durmg this controversy, a body was brought by 
four men on a light stretcher and placed with the feet 
in the muddy water. 

One man, the nearest relative, dipped handfuls of 
water and poured down the throat of the prostrate 
form ; this he did three times, and then left the place. 

I was told, but do not vouch for the truth of the 
story, that if a person took a longer time to die, than 
was considered necessary or reasonable, they were 
brought to the bank of the sacred river and instead 
of water being poured into the mouth, a little mud 
thrown in assisted them in their exit, but should they 
recover and wander back to their home, as sometimes 
happens, no one would receive them; they were out- 
casts and dead to their families. 

"According to the native faith of the Hindu, the 
sacred city of Benares is sixty thousand miles nearer 
heaven than any other spot on our sinful little sphere, 
and in affectionate solicitude for the soul about to de- 
part on its journey for the spirit world the believer 
tenderly brings his dying relative to this auspicious 



starting point, but should signs of physical weakness 
and disease fail and the sick recover he can never leave 
the bank of the sacred river, but must abide there in 
a little house of waiting built for him until the final 
summons comes, even if years intervene." 

Bodies are also thrown into the Ganges and the 
captain of our ship at Calcutta said when this was 
permitted, he would find a number of bodies washed 
against the ship which must be pushed away before 
starting on a voyage. 

This was all gruesome and ghastly, and I gladly 
told the rowers to move on to see the bathers. 

The better class had platforms built in the water 
with awnings, but open on all sides, for while the wom- 
en of the higher class are rarely seen, there were many 
bathing with great indifference to the lookers on. 

They walk into the water with their clothes on, 
which consists of a jacket and skirt, after a thorough 
scrubbing of their person, the jacket is removed and 
washed, so I saw many men and women naked to the 
waist. 

As they walked to the shore, where the water was 
shallow, a dry skirt was put on, and then the clean 
jacket; the wet skirt was slipped off, and wrung out 
and here was the bath taken, and the family washing 
done while you wait; I saw this same thing many 
times, not only in India, but in Burma and, while it 




THE BATHERS 



sounds a difficult thing to do, constant practice has 
made them very deft, for a good Hindu must take a 
daily bath. 

After the bath, three stripes are drawn on the 
forehead, a red stripe in the center nearly half an inch 
broad, and two stripes of gray from ashes. They may 



be across or up and down, sometimes merely a red 
dot, the size of an old fashioned wafer, is put between 
the eyebrows, or a spot of ashes. 

This marking of the forehead has a special relig- 
ious significance, denoting their sect, and must never 
be indulged in until after the bath; neither can the 
temple be visited until after the bath; so from the 
river to the temple in all cities in India the path is 
sloppy, wet and disagreeable. 

On a beautiful Sunday afternoon I started to 
visit the palace of the Maharaja of Benares; we drove 
to the Ganges where a boat was in waiting, brought 
from the lower part of the river by the turbaned foot- 
man, who ornamented the rear of the big, unclean 
rattle trap of a Landau. 

Our hotel boasted of two such vehicles and as 
this was the best one, at least the horses were a little 
less bony than the other pair, I thought we were quite 
fortunate. 

The distances are tremendous, the dust intolerable, 
walking impossible, so I must pay the exhorbitant 
price for the day, and then pass most of the day on 
a boat, or in shops, or walking through the filthy 
streets, where carriages cannot go. 

The river was lovely, the air was soft and mild, 
and the sun not hot, but beamed gently upon us 
through a hazy mist, as we rowed up the river, with 



the palace of the Maharaja visible in the distance. 

As we crossed the river, two, the strongest of our 
boatmen, took long coils of stout rope on their arms, 
stepped over the side of the boat into the shallow 
water, and then pulled the boat upstream against a 
heavy current. A sail was also raised, so the rowers, 
who sat quite below us, had little to do. 

As we neared the palace, a man came running 
at full speed down the sandy shore, plunged into the 
stream and seemed making for the boat. 

I was very lazy, and very sleepy, but I roused 
myself sufficiently to wonder what could be his errand, 
and why such haste! Why, indeed! He was a mes- 
senger sent for my visiting card, so I could be received 
in state! 

He ran back as fast as he had come, bearing the 
pasteboard aloft like a very small banner. 

The palace was not much to see; I have a re- 
membrance of wading ankle deep through dust to get 
there, and of rooms glittering with chandeliers with 
innumerable glass pendants, just what you see in every 
palace in the East. 

I wrote my name where many celebrities had 
written theirs, in a big book. 

I then begged that I might be taken by a shorter 
way to the boat, as we were on the very edge of the 
river. 



We were taken down the private and royal stone 
steps, and came upon a fine stone balcony, with the 
royal barges floating below us, and above, a beautiful 
white marble Buddha in a niche, with two attendant 
priests in yellow robes. 

I gave them a rupee, they threw garlands of yellow 
marigolds about my neck and of my companion, and 
said, as my boy translated, that "we should both have 
handsome husbands before the year was over." 

Why such a terrible fate was in store for me, just 
for a rupee, I was unable to imagine. 

We got into our boat, up a ladder to the top of 
the little cabin, and in the beautiful afterglow on the 
rainbow hued water, we floated back to our landing 
place. 

The beggars and the back-sheesh were a little in- 
congruous, but the afterglow lingered and the drive 
home was a pleasant finale to a dreamy, delightful 
day. 

I left Benares with regret, which would have been 
all the keener had I realized that I was going forth 
into a wilderness of crowded hotels and high prices, 
and turning my back upon the most comfortable hotel 
in India, except in Calcutta, that it was my good for- 
tune to find. 











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THE RESIDENCY 



ffl'HE terrible Indian mutiny of 1857, in which so 
^ many noble British fell under the fire of the 
mutineers, or by the ravages of cholera, is the chief 
interest of Lucknow. 

The Residency, a name applied to the ruined 
buildings and to the extensive grounds as well, show 
little signs of the terrible struggle and suffering of those 
gloomy times. 

One sees the roofless walls, broken and battered, 
some graves simply marked, and an artificial mound. 



thirty feet high, on which is a handsome white marble 
cross, twenty feet in height; on this is inscribed: 
In Memory of 
Major-Gen., Sir Henry Lawrence 

K. C. B. 

And the brave men who fell 

In defense of the Residency 

1857. 

The vines clambered freely over the ruins, flowers 

bloomed gaily in the garden, and the scene of the 

siege, and the battles, is now a beautiful park. 

We drove to all the places of interest in and 
around Lucknow, and to the bazaars, where I found 
the prices high, and the articles offered commonplace, 
and, much to Santa's, my servant's, disappointment, 
I could only be induced to buy a pair of gold em- 
broidered shoes, with toes very much turned up; his 
profits would not be large at this rate, he thought. 

The next place that was on the program to stop 
over was Cawnpore, but our landlord assured us 
that the plague was very bad at Cawnpore, cholera 
also, and beside there was nothing to see but the 
well into which were thrown two hundred persons, 
chiefly women and children, some alive, some dying 
and others dead. 

I had seen and heard quite enough of the mutiny 
and its horrors, for Santa was particularly fond of 



cemeteries, as he called every monument or grave; 
so I decided not to stop at Cawnpore. 

The landlord and the time table were consulted, 
that no mistake should be made. 

We usually took a train, and just got off when 
we reached our stopping place, for the tickets partic- 
ularly stated "that changes might be made without 
notification," which was more true than agreeable. 

I found that we were to change cars at Cawnpore, 
and wait an hour for the train to Agra. 

Upon arrival we were ushered with much cere- 
mony into the waiting room, and Santa disappeared. 
When he returned it was to say that the train had 
gone, and the next one would be here at two o'clock 
in the morning, giving me to understand that the train 
had left before we arrived. 

Before deciding what to do, to go to a hotel as 
many did, or take the train when it came, I thought 
best to consult the station master. Santa was rather 
reluctant about finding him, but when I persisted and 
did succeed, and was told that although our train 
was late, there had been plenty of time to have gotten 
the one for Agra, well, Santa had a bad quarter of 
an hour. 

There was a dining room in the station of most 
uninviting appearance, but fortunately I had my ham- 
per filled with all the necessaries for a good supper. 



We then had the big waiting room to ourselves, 
and very soon with our neat little outfit, had a hot 
supper fit for a king or any other hungry mortal. 

There was a fine bath tub where we might have 
had a hot bath as well, but we were content with the 
beds that were arranged for us. No bedding — that is 
unheard of in India — but, having plenty of our own, 
I was in a dreamless sleep at once, waking suddenly 
in time for the train. 

At this time the room was well filled with beds, 
all occupied, showing that to sleep in a public waiting 
room is not unusual in India. 

And thus, despite all my plans, I did stop over 
at Cawnp>ore. 



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Agra 



"A city of about 175,000 population; 850 miles from Calcutta, 
is famous for its art, curiosities, temples, shrines and picturesque 
ruins. The walls of the o!d city are seven by three miles, inclos- 
ing the ruins of many ancient mosques, baths, Hindu temples, 
tombs, etc. Taj Mahal, a tomb built by the great Shah Jehan for 
his beautiful Qyeen Mu Jehan (the light of the world), is a superbly 
constructed edifice of polished white marble, as fresh and pure as 
when first built, surmounted by a graceful dome decorated with rich 
mosaics on a white ground, inlaid with jasper, agate, carnelian and 
other precious stones. Two thousand men were employed 22 years 
in the construcfiion of this mausoleum, and it cost $15,000,000." 



TTT HE night had been very cold, but, as the train 
^^ neared Agra, the sun was shining warm and 
brilliantly, lighting the dome and minarets of the Taj 
Mahal with a glory which was their due. The pure 
white marble shone and glistened in the morning sun, 
and I felt that, for the long journey and the discom- 
forts of travel in India, I was well repaid by this 
fairylike vision, for it seemed too etherial to be real. 

The hotel was quite large and gave promise of 
some comfort, and a carriage was secured for the 
time of our stay. I was soon on the way to a nearer 
view of the Taj Mahal, or The Crown Lady's Tomb. 

This mausoleum was commenced in 1630 A. D., 
by the Emperor Shah Jehan, as a tomb for his favorite 



queen, Arjmand Banu, entitled Mumtaz Mahal, the 
Chosen of the Palace or the Pride of the Palace. 

Mumtaz-i-Mahal was married to Shah Jehan in 
1615, had by him seven children and died at the 
birth of the eighth child in 1629. 




Her body was laid in the garden where the Taj 
now stands until the mausoleum was built. 

Mere words fail to convey the faintest idea of this 
magnificent mausoleum, but more wonderful than the 
tomb itself, is the fact that it was erected to the memory 
of a woman, in a country where women are held so 
lightly. 



Shah Jehan rests by the side of his queen, the 
two monuments most exquisite in carving, and jewels 
inlaid in the marble, but this is the queen's tomb, and 
Shah Jehan is known as the builder. 

The gate by which one enters the grounds is a 
magnificent building of red sandstone, making a fine 
contrast to the white marble of the tomb. 

So many writers have described the Taj Mahal 
in glowing language, that it is useless for me to say 
aught, for it must be seen, not once, but many times, 
to half appreciate its beauty. 

The days were beautiful and sunny, but every 
night the moon was obscured by clouds. 

The last night of my stay in Agra, I made a fare- 
well visit to the Taj. 

The moon was kind enough to emerge from the 
clouds and shed a soft radiance over the beautiful 
scene. 

The lovely garden is divided by shallow marble 
courses filled with water, crossing at right angles in the 
center, from which center rose an immense basin with 
a fountain. Here were seats to rest, for the walk 
was long from the gateway. 

The dome and minarets of the Taj were reflected 
in the water. 

There were many people walking quietly through 



the grounds, but the stillness was so profound, one felt 
as if alone in a solemn place. 

We walked upon the marble terrace surrounding 
the central building, from which the four minarets rise. 
We leaned upon the parapet and gazed down upon 
the sacred waters of the river Jumna, upon whose 
brink the mausoleum stands. 

We were loath to leave the place, but finally, with 
determined step, started for the gateway, often turn- 
ing and looking back in the pale moonlight to this 
beautiful "poem in marble." 



IFrum tl|p 



®I|? (Eromn 



211}^ Qlrnmn IGaing's (Lttmb 

Oh, lady fair, with thy queenly air; 
Thy king besought thee his throne to share. 
He was master, and ruler, o'er all the land. 
And he ruled his people with iron hand. 

Fair queen, for thy tomb 
Men labored and died. 

Gold poured forth as water. 
And no one beside 

Can claim to their memory. 
Can claim to their pride. 

Such beauty, such grandeur. 

Such splendor, I ween, 

As gleams, for the world. 

To thy glory, oh ! Queen. 

Oh, lady fair, thou art sleeping there, 
Neath the lace-like marble with jewels rare. 
Oh pride of the palace, Mumtaz-i-Mahal. 
Dost thy spirit still linger 

'Neath the beautiful dome 
That thy fond lover builded. 

For thy last earthly home. 



Thy lover is resting in peace at thy side; 

The storm and the battle for him are no more. 
The light of the world, 
His queen and his bride, 
Was his last thought on earth 
When his sorrows were o'er. 







"' .-^w*'* 





ON THE TERRACE 



Sll^ l^mxi MnBqnt 




THE FORT AT AGRA 



E\\t Slort at Agra 

^iT OR the beautiful palace and the Pearl Mosque 
^ within the heavy and forbidding walls of the 
Fort, I was wholly unprepared. 

We arrived at the Fort and drove through the 
gateway, on and on, gradually ascending, then over 
a drawbridge, then between high walls, the roadway 
so narrow that two carriages could barely pass, twist- 
ing and turning until we came upon a high plateau, and 
stopped at the "Moti Musjid," the Pearl Mosque, 
which Fergusson describes as "one of the purest and 
most elegant buildings to be found anywhere." 



It was built by Shah Jehan in A. D. 1655. All 
the beauties of the mosque were fully shown and ex- 
plained by the custodian and Santa. 

We then descended the long flight of steps and 
were soon in front of the palace. In the center, com- 
manding a view of the whole court, was a small gal- 
lery with a marble seat. 

This was the Diwan-i-Am, or hall of public audi- 
ence, where the reigning emperor heard the complaints 
of the people. 

Back of this and opening on a terrace was the 
Diwan-i-Khas, or hall of private audience. This is 
a miracle of beauty. The carving is exquisite and 
flowers are inlaid in the white marble with cornelian 
and other colored stones. 

From this throne on the terrace, the Emperor 
looked over the broad river to the beautiful gardens 
and buildings on the opposite shore. 

A staircase leads to the "Saman Burj" or Jasmin 
Tower where the chief Sultana lived and to a beauti- 
ful pavilion with a fountain and a retiring room, which 
were the Emperor's private apartments. 

Adjoining was the golden pavilion with tiny bed- 
rooms for the ladies, with pockets in the wall, fourteen 
inches deep, into which they put their jewels. The 
openings at the top are so small that only a woman's 
arm could draw the jewels out. 



There was a beautiful grape garden where a 
waterfall was arranged over lighted lamps of different 
colors. From this was filled a large tank where the 
ladies could bathe, with little seats like perches for 
them to rest upon. 

A short distance, opening on this garden were 
the mirror rooms, two dark rooms lined with small 
mirrors, here were tanks for bathing, the water flow- 
ing over an artificial cascade with lighted lamps behind 
it. I have since read that these baths were for the 
princesses. 

In Shah Jehan's time these were fountains of per- 
fumed water. 

All this was shown and explained by a most polite 
and elegant young Englishman, who belonged to the 
Fort, which is now under British rule. He now 
ordered torches, and we were conducted into the 
lower regions, explaining as we went, that here was 
where the doomed wives were conducted, before 
making their final exit. 

A small room with high grated apertures was 
where these poor creatures were placed, who had in 
some way displeased their lord and master. Only a 
short distance was another room with a strong beam, 
and a heavy rope. Here they were hung, and when 
cut down, dropped into a secret passage three hundred 
feet deep, which connected with the river. 



I was glad to return to the light of day, thinking 
as I went, of the inconsistencies of the poor, benighted 
Hindu. 

The small grey cattle are sacred. 

A person would be killed who hurt a monkey; a 
serpent is even more sacred than a monkey; there is 
hardly a bird or a beast that is not sacred, and must 
not be injured, but over a woman her husband had 
the power to torture and to kill, with none to help 
her in her need! 

Adjoining this palace we were shown the old 
palace, built by Akbar, grandfather of Shah Jehan, 
which is now being restored. 

At the opposite side of the palace and adjoining 
the Diwan-i-Am, is a beautiful mosque, called the 
Gem Mosque, built by Shah Jehan for the ladies of 
the court; at the side is a gallery where the ladies sat to 
examine the goods which were brought by merchants, 
and displayed in the courts below. 

There are small rooms here, where Shah Jehan 
was imprisoned for seven years by his son and suc- 
cessor, Aurangzib. 

His captivity was shared by his daughter, Jehan- 
ara, who was tenderly devoted to her father; from 
here he was carried, when he was dying, to the room 
nearest the river — an octagonal pavilion and very 
beautiful. Here he died gazing upon the Taj, the 
tomb of his favorite wife. 



(Hhr iBtiTiU* SoomB 




AKBARS TOMB, M. E. F. AND SANTA 



Akbar'0 ®nmb 

3^E STARTED for Sikandarah quite early in 
^^^ the morning, for the distance was five miles 
from Agra, and the sun grew very hot at mid-day. 
The gateway to the garden surrounding Akbar's 
tomb is truly magnificent. It is of red sandstone, very 
massive and inlaid with white marble. 



A broad paved walk leads to the mausoleum. It 
is a pyramidal building of four stories, three of which 
are of red sandstone, the fourth being of white marble. 

A gentle incline leads down to the vaulted cham- 
ber in which the great Akbar rests. It is quite dark 
and the once illumined walls are now soiled and 
discolored. 

Narrow staircases lead above. The highest plat- 
form open to the sky is surrounded by a cloister of 
white marble beautifully carved. In the center is 
the splendid white marble cenotaph, just over the place 
where his dust rests in the gloomy chamber below. 
On one side of this cenotaph is inscribed, "God is 
greatest," on the other, "May His glory shine," 

A few feet distant is a white marble pillar, which 
was once covered with gold and contained the great 
diamond Koh-i-Nur. It is supposed to have been 
taken from here by Nadir Shah. 

On the way home we stopped at the rug manu- 
factory. At the big squares of warp sat rows of 
small boys from six to ten years of age. 

These very deftly put in the colors with the 
simplest of instruments as they were called out by a 
larger boy, who stood at the end of the bench, and 
managed for two rugs. 

It takes six months to learn, and the pay is very 
small, but the boys looked happy and contented, and 



we were told the work was eagerly sought for. A 
good sized rug can be made in three months. 

They are beautiful, and not very expensive, and 
are shipped to all the large cities. I saw many cases 
marked for New York. 

I think at least ten boys were at work on one rug 
at the same time. They are paid by the inch. Their 
little hands and fingers just flew over the colored yarns 
as they put them in, and fastened them. 

We visited many shops, but the small models of 
the Taj and the marble inlaid with colored stones 
had no attraction for me. It was beautiful in the Taj, 
but in small boxes and other pieces, I would have 
none of it. 



Kf^pnre 



E REACHED Jeypore in the evening, but I felt 
no anxiety, as I had wired for rooms and 
all the world was supposed to be at Delhi, two mis- 
takes, for my wire had not been received, and there 
was not a vacant room in the hotel. 

After much deliberation, the manager said there 
was one room, which was reserved for a young man; 
he would give me this room, and put the young man 
in a tent. It was not a good room, he said (he was 
right there), but it was the only one he had. 

Not that I saw the manager, but this was the word 
that Santa brought. 

Arriving at a hotel in India is unique. 

You drive up; if with two horses there is always 
a footman. 

Your own servant and this footman assist you out, 
and place your small luggage beside you. 

All you can do is to sit still, wait, and be stared 
at by the occupants of the veranda. 

This is what happened here. 

Finally we were ushered by Santa into as poor a 
place for our room as I have ever seen. 

It was on the ground floor, in fact all the rooms 
I occupied in India, except in Calcutta, were on the 
ground floor. This had one small window without 



glass; when we closed the wooden shutters we were 
in darkness; there were two beds without bedding, 
and a dressing room, which happily one always finds. 

There is no trouble about plumbing in these 
countries; one corner of this dressing room had a 
cement partition about a foot high, and here you throw 
the water, regardless of consequences, even in the 
second story, as we were in Calcutta, and in Burma; 
nothing seems to happen. 

We dressed by a small lamp, and a candle in a 
tumbler, and Santa came and escorted us to dinner. 

Here we found a brilliant company. 

Lady Mary and Lady Jane were here, with ser- 
vants galore, both white and black. 

Santa had secured very good seats at table d'hote 
and waited upon us, to the best there was, which was 
nothing to boast of. 

As yet I had not seen a person who seemed to 
belong to the hotel. 

When we went to our room, Santa made our 
beds, and then his bed, outside the door, and was 
our guardian for the night. 

The morning was beautiful. 

Santa brought our "chota-hazri," or early tea and 
toast, in good season. 

We were soon on our way to see the sights in 
the highest and biggest landau it has ever been my 



cUli? Alhprt Ifall 



fate to see; Santa, who made the arrangement for the 
carriages, seemed to think the bigger the better. 

I remember I had something under my feet, and a 
pillow at my back to prop me in. 

We first went to the public garden outside the 
city wall, one of the finest gardens in India. 

These gardens cost the Maharaja thirty thousand 
rupees a year to keep up. 

In the center of the garden is the Albert Hall, a 
sumptuous modern building for which the Prince of 
Wales laid the cornerstone in 1876. It contains a 
large Durbar Hall and a beautiful museum. 

The collections of modem works of art, and of in- 
dustry, also of antiques from every part of India, are 
very complete, and most interesting, while the exam- 
ples of pottery, and enameling made in Jeypore, were 
most surprising and beautiful. 

We then drove into the town, which is remarkable 
for the width and regularity of its streets. The main 
streets are over one hundred feet wide, and are lined 
with fine buildings three to four stories in height, quite 
uniform in their style; they seemed to be covered with 
plaster and were colored a bright "crushed straw- 
berry," as nearly as I can describe it. 

In the bright sunlight, the uniform color of street 
after street was charming. These streets were crowd- 
ed and the bazaars most picturesque. 



The printed cottons, with the Maharaja's stamp, 
were beautiful. Many stones are found in the state, 
the cutting of which is a large branch of industry, 
while the beautiful shapes, and color of the pottery, 
made one want all they saw. 




THE MAHARAJAS PALACE 



We went to the Maharaja's palace and through 
the grounds. We viewed the stables in which I think 
there were five hundred beautiful horses. 

We walked and walked, through dust ankle deep, 
to see the fighting elephants, which were not much 
of a sight, but we could, on our way, look up to the 
small barred apertures, and see the Zenana, or women's 
apartments, and were told that the Maharaja had 
556 wives. 

Jeypore is the pleasant, healthy capital of one of 
the most prosperous independent states of Rajputana. 



It is the residence of the Maharaja, whose estate covers 
nearly 15,000 square miles, with a population of 
2,500,000 souls. 

On Sunday afternoon we drove to the city, through 
the huge gateway, where it seemed as if the whole pop- 
ulation was in the streets. 

All the shops were open and seemed a little gayer 
than on other days. 

The crowd was so great, we must drive slowly, 
which gave the merchants time to rush upon us with 
their wares; at one time the carriage would be filled 
with embroidered shoes of all sizes and descriptions, 
this because I had stopped at a booth and looked at 
shoes several days before. I could not drive in that 
street without every man or boy on the street actually 
stopping the carriage to make a sale. 

Then the prmted cotton street; they flew at us 
wavmg long streamers of cotton in lovely colorings, 
some still damp from the dye. 

We stopped to see some Nautch girls dance, and 
such a crowd collected, that the police dispersed them. 

Santa for a pice, like our pennies, bought a big 
paper of their lowest coin, which is small shells; ten 
of them is a handsome gift to a beggar, and beggars 
there were in plenty. 

About five o'clock the crowd was almost impassi- 
ble, and we began to meet the wedding processions. 



The first was the son of an official, he looked a 
boy of fourteen, and was reclining, with a very bored 
look, in a palanquin. Before him walked dancing 
girls, playing on cymbals, with little bells on their 
fingers. 

The whole procession would stop, and these girls 
would sing, and dance a litde, and then all would 
move on. We kept even wilh them, as long as we 
could, until they turned into another street. 

One wedding was most pathetic, the women who 
walked were richly dressed, music headed the proces- 
sion, and everything gave evidence of wealth. 

I stopped the carriage, to allow them to pass, 
when a beautiful palanquin wilh purple hangings came 
quite near me. 

In it was a little girl, not more than six years of 
age, with the silver bridal veil on her head. There 
was a pause in the procession, when she lifted the 
corner of her veil, and peeped out at a stranger with 
a sweet baby smile. 

I counted thirteen wedding processions that after- 
noon, of all classes, and conditions. Sometimes the 
bride walked, but always with the silver veil over her 
head. 

The day was warm and lovely, and the people 
seemed almost gay — the only time and place, in India, 
where I saw a smile, with few exceptions. 



As a rule, the people have an angry, sullen, blood- 
thirsty look, a look of hate that is not pleasant to see. 
I asked an Englishman if he was not afraid of an- 
other mutiny, and he said their safety lay in the fact 
that while the people of India hated the British, they 
hated each other more. 

The Hindu and the Mohammedan religion, and 
the strict class distinctions may account for the evil look 
upon their black faces, and the dagger-like glitter in 
their shining black eyes. 

Now Santa was a Christian, and the ugly gleam 
had departed from his eyes, but was not replaced by 
a smile. 

He was probably a deacon, from his happy way 
of taking up a collection, for when we started from 
Calcutta, he had not money enough to fee a cooley; 
our journey was not half completed, when he could 
change a bill for me of any amount, and fee coolies to 
a lordly extent. 

I rubbed out his slate every night, and began 
again in the morning, and I noticed that fees grew 
larger, and coolies more expensive, as we neared our 
journey's end. 

Poor Santa! I would not buy, no matter how 
many or how fascinating the shops to which he took 



me. 



There was always such a long consultation with 



him before the price was named, that I had plenty of 
time to make up my mind how much an article was 
worth, and if I really wanted it, before Santa was 
satisfied (of course this parley went on in Hindustani), 
and when I made my offer, it was rarely enough to 
cover Santa's commission with profit. 



(SlasB falarp at 
Ambrr 




ARRIVAL AT AMBER 



Amber 



ARE you going to Amber? Have you a permit? 
Have you an elephant? 
Everybody was asking everybody else that sunny 
morning on the veranda of the hotel at Jeypore. 



Yes, I had all these, and we soon started with 
quite a calvacade for the old capital, now the ruined 
city of Amber. 

We drove to the foot of the mountain side, where 
the elephants were waiting. 

A huge fellow with housings, which might once 
have been handsome, but were now rather shabby, 
knelt down in true circus style, and we climbed by 
aid of a ladder to his back, but the howdah was 
not so comfortable as one I rode in when a child, or 
so handsome. 

The elephant rocked and rolled up the steep path, 
made more picturesque by the procession of elephants 
slowly winding up. We dismounted in the court yard, 
and were shown through the palace. 

To the right of the Diwan-i-Am is a small temple, 
where a goat offered each morning to Kali preserves 
the tradition of a daily human sacrifice on the same 
spot, in prehistoric times. 

On a higher terrace are the Maharaja's own apart- 
ments, entered by a splendid gateway covered with 
mosaics and sculpture. 

The Hall of Victory is adorned with panels of 
alabaster, "the roof glittering with the mirrored and 
spangled work for which Jeypore is renowned." Above 
is the Jas Mandis "which literally glows with bright 
and tender colors and exquisite inlaid work, and looks 



/ 


}• 


inrnti 







through arches of carved alabaster and clusters of 
slender columns upon the sleeping lake and the silent 
mountains." 

It was all very beautiful. 




THE JUMMA MUSJID 

TJJ HAT can I say of Delhi, that has not been 
-^■^ better said, and printed in every newspaper 
in the land in this year of 1903? 

The Durbar was over two days before I arrived, 
the Viceroy and Vice reine and many of the guests had 
departed. 

Accounts of the enormous crowds and the im- 
possibility of securing any accommodations, prevented 
me from going to Delhi during the Durbar, and now 
Delhi was dishevelled; deep dust covered the road- 



ways, and many deep d-d's descended on the Delhi 
Durbar, which was deemed responsible for all the ills 
that had befallen the visitors, that had gathered from all 
parts of the world. 

The nights were frightfully cold, and the dainty 
dames, from Duchess to ladies in waiting, shivered in 
the icy atmosphere of an unwarmed tent. 

There was no difficulty in securing accommoda- 
tions to go to Delhi, but to get away was quite an- 
other matter! 

The city was still crowded, and I was told to 
secure a return train, as soon as I reached Delhi, which 
I tried to do. The trains — well, they were all wild 
trains, and all seemed to have lost their right of way. 

If I asked about trains, I was referred to the station 
master, and what he said at one time, he contradicted 
the next time I saw him. I fairly haunted the station, 
fearing I might never be able to leave Delhi, until the 
station master lost himself, and left word that he had 
gone out of town; but I knew my man, and caught 
him, and pinned him down to a special carriage, and 
a special train, which having a written order for, I 
felt somewhat relieved as to the length of my enforced 
stay. 

The castle and the fort was a poor affair after 
Agra, though the remains of the decorations for the 
grand ball of the Durbar were still "en evidence." 



The Jumma Musjid, or mosque, is said to be 
unrivalled for size. 

I was told an interesting story in connection with 
this mosque. 

The day of the procession, during the Durbar, 
every part of the mosque was filled with visitors to 
view the gorgeous spectacle, and as the ceremonies 
would be long, brought tiffin and especially ham 
sandwiches with them, some of which was scattered 
about the floor of the mosque. 

Now pork to a Mohammedan being most unclean^ 
is like a red rag to a bull; their beautiful mosque had 
been defiled; the outrage and the insult must be 
avenged. 

The next evening was arranged for the grand dis- 
play of fireworks; this was the opportunity. 

About six hundred men armed themselves with 
clubs and sticks; they were to mingle in the crowd, at 
night, and beat these "dogs of christians." 

Most fortunately, the plot was discovered, the 
men were disarmed, and a regiment of cavalry was 
ordered on the scene to prevent any outbreak, and 
awe the angry mob. 

Rumors of an impending uprising, at the time of 
the Durbar, had reached me at Calcutta, which made 
Delhi seem less desirable, than even want of accommo- 
dation. 



But the iron hand of the Viceroy was everywhere 
felt; the minutest detail was brought to him; so not a 
blemish marred the success of this splendid Durbar. 

India has good cause to honor Lord Curzon. 

He spent enormous sums of money to restore the 
beautiful architectural gems, which she possesses, and 
to insure them from further decay and destruction, and 
where restoration was being done, I was always told, 
"Lord Curzon is having this done." 

I often heard it said, "he is a born ruler," "he is 
the best Viceroy India has ever had." 

From every one, whom I met, words failed them, 
to express their pride in, and their admiration for Lady 
Curzon. "Our American Queen," as they called her. 

In speaking of the jewels worn at the Durbar ball, 
of the Duchess of Marlborough's, and of others, they 
always ended, "but Lady Curzon's were as handsome 
as any one's." 

Then her smile, how often it was spoken of; in the 
procession some one said it reached every one, and 
made them glad and happy all day. Her charming 
manner, her beautiful head and shoulders, all were 
commented upon with loving praise. 

I hope she knows how much she is beloved, how 
her gentle and gracious manner has won all hearts! 

The tents still covered the plains; the little railway, 
that connected the different camps, still slowly puffed 



around the narrow gauge track ; the enormous elephants 
with their stately tread and beautiful housings were 
constantly seen, for many of the Indian princes were 
still in Delhi, but the gay crowd had departed and 
Delhi seemed deserted. 

Prices at the hotels and for carriages were still 
high, for the hotels had named such fabulous prices, 
to their would-be patrons, that the great crowd that 
was expected stayed away, or brought tents and food 
with them. So both provision sellers, and hotel keep- 
ers lost heavily, and tried to even the loss, with the 
later comers, but the attraction was so small, and the 
discomfort so great, that the all-absorbing thought was, 
how to get away. 

Five hours waiting in the station and at last, after 
the Maharaja, and the elephants, had departed in 
their special train, and several other trains had pulled 
out, the special train for which I had an order, was 
made up, and four hours after the time named, we were 
en route to Calcutta. 

Santa urged that I should stop over at Allahabad, 
there were so many interesting things to see, and to 
buy. Not I. 

With every train crowded I might not again be able 
to secure such a comfortable railway carriage; so 
we slowly rolled and rolled for two nights, and nearly 
two days, on, on to Calcutta. 




GOVERNMENT HOUSE 



Olalrutta 

'JJT WAS good to be back in Calcutta to a large 
^ fine room at the comfortable Grand hotel; to find 
a housekeeper sitting up for us, even though we arrived 
at the unearthly hour of three in the morning; to have 
the nice cup of hot tea and an egg, with delicious toast, 
served even at that hour, for the drive was long from 
the station and the air chilly, and then to go to bed 
with the happy feeling that some of the sights of Cal- 
cutta had been done, and that one had a little time to 
enjoy one's self. 

Everything seemed so fine in the morning! 

Calcutta is a city of magnificent buildings, and 
they seemed to have grown during my absence; the 
streets were clean and free from dust. 



The horses looked like Arabian coursers, after the 
sorry jaded beasts I had grown accustomed to, and 
the coachmen and footmen, with their grand turbans 
of every conceivable color, that had seemed rather 
shabby before, why, they looked fairly regal, as they 
passed up and down in front of the hotel. 

I went out, and squandered a rupee, an hour, on 
the finest turnout, at the stand, and forgot that I was 
paying too much. 

I drove to Government House, where great prep- 
arations were being made for the arrival of Lord and 
Lady Curzon, and for the grand ball they were to 
give later. 

The ball room is magnificent; the floor is of pol- 
ished teak wood, the ceilings are beautifully paneled, 
the chandeliers are brilliant with their sparkling, shim- 
mering glass pendants (they are said to have been 
taken from a French ship during the last war between 
France and England). 

Government House stands in a small park of six 
acres, with well kept lawn and beautiful trees and 
flowers. 

The Indian museum is an immense building, con- 
taining a fine collection of fossils and minerals, a geo- 
logical gallery, with rich specimens and a fine library, 
and those who desire to study the products, and manu- 
factures of the country, will find the finest examples 




QUEEN VICTORIA 



of their art, and workmanship, in the economical divi- 



sion. 



In 1891, Calcutta was a city of 840,000 in- 
habitants, including the suburbs; in the heart of this 
great city is the Maiden or Esplenade, which is a mag- 



nificent open space, a mile and a half long, by about 
a quarter of a mile in width. 

It is not like a park, for it is treeless, there are no 
drives or anything to beautify this great level piece of 
land, except that around it are many statues. Queen 
Victoria in bronze, seated on a massive base, occupying 
the most conspicuous place. 

The temples, at least the one I visited, three miles 
away near the bank of the river Ganges, was disap- 
pointing. The approach was disgustingly unclean and 
wet from the dripping clothes of the bathers, who 
crowded and joslled me in the very narrow alleys, by 
which we struggled to see the temple. 

We were accosted every moment by beggars in 
priest's garb, who held out their skinny hands; I sup- 
pose they were clean after the constant bathing, but 
they did not look so. 

When we finally reached the temple, we could see 
nothing, it was so shut in by other buildings, and so 
dark. We were never allowed to enter these temples, 
but the guide would point to a barred window and ask 
if w^e could see the god inside, but I never could! 

And for this, four of us were beguiled by my 
servant to waste a whole afternoon. 

I visited the palace of the dethroned King of 
Oudh, but was not much impressed with its grandeur, 
though the many fine portraits were interesting. 




THE NEW POST OFFICE 



I had always read and heard so much of the Black 
Hole of Calcutta, that I expected to look down into 
a deep black hole, but on this famous spot, now stands 
the new Post Office. 

I was satiated with sight-seeing, I just wanted to 
enjoy the delicious air and the beautiful sunshine. 

So for days before embarking for Hongkong, via 
Rangoon and Singapore, I drove and dawdbd, shop- 
ping a little, visiting the flower market, which was most 
interesting, watching the slreet scenes, and finally de- 
parted from Calcutta with sadness and regret. 



(C'est-Finis) 



m 9 1312 



One 



copy del. to Cat. Div. 



■'AN 30 1912 




029 948 069 



